The hallway is bleached white and is deathly quiet. Until the sounds of two hurried footsteps break the silence as Matsumoto doggedly drags Urahara into the deserted area.

"Where is your courage?" she hisses to the lagging blond.

They finally halt, both of them breathing heavily. She speaks hurriedly, blue eyes constantly surveying either end of the corridor, fearful of unfriendly eyes and ears. Urahara also strains to hear any sound not made by either of them.

"I'm not fucking around here. Either you do something or I'll do something to you, and it won't be pleasant. You need to get some of us out. As many as you can. Yachiru and Ishida must be first priority." Words clipped and matter of fact.

"Ichigo?" Urahara dares to ask with a tightening chest.

"Dead. Like we'll all be if this goes on much longer."

Urahara bows his head at the confirmation, still clinging to the hope that the death of their strongest ally was merely an illusion, reasoning that Aizen had more ingenuous uses for the boy.

"Well," she demands, "are you going to help us or not? Help yourself, even."

"It's too dangerous to form opposition at this point," Urahara counters, playing for time.

"And continuing on as we have been doing is perfectly safe, is it?"

"If we do as he says."

"What happened to the man who broke the rules and defied authority? The man who tried to change things, where is he now?"

"You have no right to ask that."

Matsumoto merely folds her arms over her ample bosom. "Yellow hair to match your yellow heart, eh Kisuke?"

"What do you propose?" he whispers, hurt by the truth of the allegation, and the sting of her words.

Matsumoto is about to answer but the sound of heavy steps fast approaching make her start, eyes widening in worry.

"Rukia!" Matsumoto blurts before hurrying away.

Kisuke remains, holding a hand to his temple briefly, considering the possibilities. He completely understands what it is she is asking. But can it be done?